


a natural love

by ellfie



Series: Ah yes another jedi oc series [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Creche master, F/M, Gen, Pregnancy, Togrutas (Star Wars), Unplanned Pregnancy, Who's The Father?, are kethra and qui-gon a thing? who knows, i don't know yet, i made OCs and wrote things for them that need to live somewhere, jedi or motherhood? hmmm, kethra adaar - Freeform, let younglings be kids dammit, master kethra adaar, one-sided padawan/master, really i just needed this to live somewhere, themes of abortion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:06:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellfie/pseuds/ellfie
Summary: The Togruta let out a sigh, setting her yellow hand over her belly.“I will be throwing away my life here for you, little one,” she murmured.And yet, she didn't regret it.--When muse for an OC runs wild, ellfie writes it down and drags other people and characters with her. Including but not limited to Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and nostromoose.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Original Female Character(s), Qui-Gon Jinn/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Ah yes another jedi oc series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170233
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. unplanned pregnancy

**Author's Note:**

> listen this needed to live somewhere ok and i'm not on tumblr much anymore
> 
> Master Kethra Adaar is a yellow togruta who you can ask more about if you want, who i may write more about, and who I intend to cosplay at some point over on my tiktok: kaytothewin. She started when I wanted to make a pantoran padawan (Ira Vree, you may meet her sometime) who then needed a master (Ekias), who then needed a master (Kethra), who then got a story. And here we are. They all link together later, post order 66 too.

Master Kethra Adaar stared down at her belly.

A small curve had begun, but not so much so to be impossible to hide, especially amidst her robes, as were her breasts, which had swollen a bit larger as well. Her scent had shifted, she knew, but few on the Council had sensitive enough noses to note the difference, and those that did would not know what it meant. There were no other Togrutas, not on the council and not even in the Temple. A Togruta Jedi occurred about once a generation, she had noted, give or take a few years. She was currently the only one.

Still. Eventually she would be unable to hide her state.

Kethra knew what would happen. Her time as a Jedi was coming to an end. The hours spent teaching the children in the creche, the years watching them learn and grow and shine, the stolen moments where she allowed the children to be that – children. To be scared or lonely and seek solace in her arms with a motherly embrace. It was a dangerous thing, or so the Council continued to tell her. _Lead to the dark side, such a path will._

But none on the Council understood children. They had been raised by Jedi before them, with no memories of their parents, of family. Kethra, though, she could remember the feel of her mother’s arms, her father’s laugh, cuddling up to them both as they told stories to lull her to sleep, or held her during nightmares, or kissed her forehead when she was ill. How her parents loved her, and she them.

A love that was against the Jedi Code.

But a _natural_ love. A bond that strengthened one another.

Certainly, Kethra understood the risk. A Force-sensitive child giving in to a tantrum could cause a room to crumble into dust; an angry toddler could Force-push an adult away so hard that a wrong landing could kill. It was a delicate balance that had to be struck – but just that. A balance.

Her contemporaries – the Council, her friends, even her old master, those she would die for if required – did not understand that balance.

So Kethra knew what they would demand of her when the time came to announce she was pregnant.

The Togruta let out a sigh, setting her yellow hand over her belly.

“I will be throwing away my life here for you, little one,” she murmured.

And yet, she didn't regret it.

.x.

“Master Qui-Gon,” the Togruta called softly, moving closer to where she saw the human master sitting across from his padawan beneath a tree in the meditation gardens. They both looked up at her, while Ekias at her side frowned, casting glancing between all of them.

The conversation with her own padawan was one she would have to have, and soon, but she knew it would not end well, knew that the human teen would not handle it well – especially not with how he had begun looking at her. She needed the support of her one like-minded friend before she tackled such a conversation.

The two humans greeted her in turn, and moved to stand when it was clear Kethra was not planning on joining them on the ground. She gestured to Obi-Wan to remain, however, and the young man raised a brow but slowly returned to his knees.

“May I borrow your master, padawan Obi-Wan?” She asked instead with a small smile. The padawan in question raised a brow but smiled, nodding.

“If you can handle him, Master Kethra,” he joked, earning a warm look from the other male and a soft chuckle from Kethra. Ekias just frowned harder, beginning to glare at Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon shook his head fondly and brushed out his robes before setting his hands into his sleeves while Kethra looked to her own padawan. “Ekias–” the teen’s attention snapped to hers, greedy for it. “Join padawan Obi-Wan for some meditation.” Annoyance flashed over his features, and the teen glanced between Kethra and Qui-Gon, but ground out a _yes, master_ before stiffly, slowly, lowering to the ground.

Obi-Wan looked between them all, brow raised and lips pursed tight in clear concern and slight distaste – he too had grown tired of Ekias’s growing moods but had to deal with them often, with as much time as Qui-Gon and Kethra were together. But he didn’t argue, just attempted a welcoming smile to the younger teen which was returned with a deepening scowl.

Kethra gave a tired smile, then nodded to Qui-Gon, who fell in step with her as they moved to a more secluded part of the gardens.

“How are the younglings faring, Kethra?” Qui-Gon asked after several minutes of silence and watching Kethra’s expression get steadily more creased, so much so he caught her biting her lower lip a few times, something she rarely did.

The Togruta let out a breath, shaking her head. “Well. As much so as can be expected. Some of the older ones miss my presence, but I was careful to remind them that such a thing should… at the very least not be expressed among the masters.” She let out another sigh. When the Council assigned her a padawan, she knew it had been an attempt to draw her further away from the younglings she cared about and enjoyed teaching, to fill up her time and be an excuse to send her on more missions that took her away from her past duties as creche master, everyone citing her attachment to the children with growing concern.

Qui-Gon touched her arm, and she looked up to his warm look. He rubbed her arm through her red robes then glanced around, guiding her to sit on a bench out of sight of others. “What’s wrong, Kethra?” He said softly, tipping his head closer to keep the words between them, concern creasing his brows.

Kethra closed her eyes, lowered her head, mindful of her red and white montrals. Her hand found his, and he squeezed it in return. “Nothing. And everything.”

“That’s quite cryptic,” Qui-Gon teased softly, brushing his thumb over her palm. She sighed, leaned a little closer. The human was one of the few Jedi – especially masters – that were very tactile, if given the chance. Kethra had learned to keep her physical affections to herself, save for children in need of a comforting hug, but it was always relieving to be able to hold onto Qui-Gon, to rest in his arms, to lean into his touches and touch in return.

Qui-Gon and her were like-minded. The Jedi Order had strayed too far into suppression of natural emotions, encouraged children to become shades of themselves in an attempt to keep their powers in check. Distanced themselves so far from the world that the balance they sought so hard for was meaningless.

_Balance is not repression._ Qui-Gon had told her once, setting alight her own convictions. _Love should not be feared. We have striven so far to avoid natural emotions that in doing so we give into fear of their repercussions._

Kethra stared down at his hand – a worn, tanned hand that remained warm beneath her touch, comforting in the way his fingers closed over hers. She let out another breath. “I’m pregnant.”

The jolt of surprise that shot through him echoed strongly back to her through the Force, followed by wonder, joy, and a little crackling of envious want. Kethra let out a laugh that was more of a breath, smiling to herself. Of course, Qui-Gon’s reaction would be so, and not the immediate confusion, revulsion, and disappointment from others.

The human drew his other hand up her arm, encouraging her to face him, and when she looked up into his wide eyes, he cupped her cheek. She leaned into it, closing her eyes for a moment. “What a wonderful gift,” he whispered, and she looked up at him again, smiling, heart warming and shoulders relaxing to be able to share this with someone that felt the way she did. He moved his hand over to the front of her robes and Kethra chuckled, clasping it and moving her outer robes aside so he could feel her stomach.

“There’s nothing to feel yet,” she laughed, “It is only about the size of a berry.”

“Have you felt it in the Force yet?”

Kethra smiled again, looking down, rubbing his hand as he rubbed her stomach. “It feels like… a piece of myself. Not it’s own thing, yet, but like… a small ball of light that was not there before.”

He pulled her into his arms and Kethra relaxed into the embrace, setting her cheek to his shoulder and closing her eyes, smiling at the warmth and love emanating from the man. He kissed her cheek and she warmed when he said, “You will be a wonderful mother.” Because of course Qui-Gon knew what her choice would be. Knew what the Council would ask of her, and knew what she would do.

“This is something I always wanted… but did not think I would have. But I–” her fingers found his rough outer robe and she held it tight, voice dropping. “I hate that I will have to leave my younglings.”

Qui-Gon stroked her head, down her back lek. “It will be hard… but they will be safe.”

Which was to say, her child would not be without her. She sighed, pressed her face against his neck, breathed in his scent – musk and warmth. “I know.”

“When you tell the Council… would you like me to stand with you?”

Kethra let out a breath. “I… no. That will make it seem like it is _us_ against _them_ , which is what they have been worried about from the start. It is better they hand out my fate to me, and not try to turn this into some political maneuver, and not cast out the only other person who could change things here.”

“Plo will be sympathetic.”

“Agreed, but still pragmatic enough to know one could not ask me to put a mission or even a people over the fate of my child and expect to get an answer they approve of.”

Qui-Gon let out a sigh, moving his hand to her back, sliding up beneath her back lek to knead her neck, prompting her to let out a little sound and melt further against him. “I would change this if I could. Make it so we do not have to so thoroughly choose the Order over family. We can find that balance, I am certain of it.”

“But not now,” Kethra nosed beneath his jaw, then leaned back to look at him. “The others are too rigid, too frightened of the change we are suggesting. This will seem to prove to them that our theories should never be put into practice.” She dropped her eyes, let out another breath, riding out a wave of emotion that shuddered through her. She heard his breath in turn, felt the way his hands tightened on her, feeling and riding that wave himself. “I… I am sorry to leave you with this burden.”

His hands were warm on her face, covering the white markings arching down her cheeks, and she blinked up at him, finding him staring at her with that unending warmth that drew everyone to him. He pressed a kiss to her lips, then to the swirls on her forehead. “It is one I am happy to carry, so you may carry this young one.”  
  
Kethra smiled up at him, covered his hand with hers, and melted back into his arms.

.x.


	2. padawan interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the obi-wan interlude (aka ekias is awful)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fun thing is ekias is loosely based off a true experience. i still worry about them tho i haven't seen the kids in years. but it's fun when you're right out of college and can pinpoint a potential problem and everyone else is like noooooo it's fine he's just being a two year old. (spoiler alert, a few years later suddenly there were lots of meetings about him and i was like hmm well i told you so but fuck me i guess)

.X.

“You shouldn’t flirt with her like that.”

Obi-Wan stared at the younger teen, mouth falling open. _Flirt?_ “I was doing no such thing.”

Ekias snorted, leaning back a little, glaring at him with such disdain it felt like a wash of cold shadows interrupting his sunny day. “It’s against the code. If you can’t control yourself, you should stay away from her.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Ekias, I am _not_ flirting with Master Kethra. Of course she is beautiful–” the other snarled at him so hard he sounded like a Felacatian. “ _But_ that does not mean I… I _want_ anything from her.”

Ekias tipped his chin up, looking down his nose at him even though Obi-Wan was taller, even sitting. “Good.”

Obi-Wan grimaced, shifting his weight as this conversation just made the discomfort in his legs more, unable to turn his focus away from such things now. “Ekias – I know what our master’s view on attachments are, but surely you see that you–”

“She is my master,” Ekias interrupted, as if that explained everything.

“But she is not _yours.”_

Ekias’s expression turned thunderous, and cold washed through Obi-Wan once more, making him shiver. He stared at him, mouth open a moment before pursing his lips together into a tight line.

“So I could put the suggestion in that Master Qui-Gon train me instead? Tell the council my fears of your attachment to him?”

Obi-Wan stiffened, a sharp _no!_ ringing through the force clear enough that Ekias grinned. He dug his fingers into his leg, let out a long breath through his nose. “Even if the council thought we needed to be separated, that doesn’t mean he would take _you._ ”

“Wouldn’t it?” Ekias continued grinning, a nasty look on his face. “Our masters are friends. Perhaps he would feel a sense of duty to me. Certainly not to you, who failed so spectacularly you couldn’t even stop flirting with masters many years your senior.”

Obi-Wan finally stood. “You are being ridiculous and cruel, and it is most unbecoming of a Jedi. Perhaps _I_ should bring my concerns to the Council.”

Ekias’s grin didn’t dim at all. “See how that works for you.”

Obi-Wan ground his teeth together. The boy wasn’t wrong. Qui-Gon had, on rare occasion, offered his own concerns about Kethra’s padawan, and when Obi-Wan had asked why he hadn’t told others, he looked at him and said, tiredly, that he _had._ He and Kethra both. But the other masters only cited Ekias’s achievements, his skill, his charm, and implied any short-comings may be due to their teachings and influence.

Obi-Wan ached to leave, or maybe to give into a more dangerous temptation and _punch_ the teen, but he knew both masters expected him to be the better influence and would be disappointed if he left the gardens and the other padawan before they returned. He slowly returned to his knees, unable to keep the annoyance from his features for a few moments. “Your master told us to meditate,” he managed stiffly, “So why don’t you shut your mouth and do as she says.”

Ekias flashed him a dark look, before it evened out into one that was unnervingly warm and even, and he nodded. “Of course, Padawan Obi-Wan.”

 _He’d make a good politician,_ He thought, before attempting to focus enough to meditate.

.X.


	3. arguing with the council 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Knight Kethra Adaar speaks to the council about raising kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set several years before the last two chapters, and some more continued exploration of her character (and me attempting to write lots of people in a scene and characters i don't know all that well).

Her yellow fingers wove tight together beneath the sleeves of her robes, hidden from view, and her shields were put to the test, attempting to keep the Council of masters from feeling her nerves and frustration.

“Children need stability, structure, especially the toddlers we take from their families.” Her voice, fortunately, remained steady.

The young knight had only been speaking for a few minutes, but it was clear the Council’s hearts and minds were closed off to her concerns. Their faces varied from calm to mildly irritated – none of the support she had hoped for. Her eyes flickered to Master Tiin, finding even her old master just watching her with a carefully blank look. The ache of their severed bond surged once more, and she had to push away the surge of loneliness at the loss of his gentle presence against hers. Kethra had had a few years to process it, but still being within her old master’s presence brought to surface the loss.

“A place of stability and structure, the Temple is,” Yoda pointed out.

Kethra released a little breath. “Indeed, but children need more than the Temple.”

“You well know all the children’s needs are met here,” Master Windu said, making Kethra force back a frown.

“I mean beyond the physical, beyond even the Force.”

“You speak of attachments,” Master Plo spoke up, his deep voice resonating throughout the space through his mask. She looked at him, and his pretense was gentle and curious, but neither approving nor disapproving. Nonetheless, his words set a ripple of unease through the other council members.

“Attachments are forbidden for a reason, young one,” Master Mundi said gently, but his disapproval was evident. Kethra bit her lip, cast her glance over them all, wishing they’d give her time to actually say her piece before cutting in.

“I am aware, but attachments are also natural. The depth and actions attachments cause are the true concern–”

“Which attachments lead to.” Force, did Mace frustrate her.

“Perhaps, but I am not attempting to argue our code, masters, only to help our youngest, our future, grow in a more conducive environment.”

“What is in place now has been the way for centuries,” Mace said, and gestured to the other council members. “We have all come out of this _enviornment_ , and have turned out just fine.”

Kethra pursed her lips, gripped her hands tight. That was the argument she heard often, and it grated on her, more so because it was one that could not be argued against until the other took stock of their _own_ shortcomings and could look upon their upbringing analytically. For all their contemplation, meditation, and oneness with the Force, the Master Jedis were not good at change, nor even accepting that it might be necessary.

But she couldn’t say to their faces _you have not turned out fine, you have turned distant_ As it would only be perceived as an insult and failing on _her_ part.

“Nonetheless…” the togruta said slowly, minding herself. “With those centuries gives us time to look back, to reflect, to see what has been done and what could be done. Parading jedi in and out of young children’s lives, _infants_ lives harms their minds and hearts, stunts their development. If we turn our gaze outward, see the processes and family workings of those outside the Temple we’d see–”

“Our concern is _within_ the Temple, Knight Adaar.” Mace cut in. “We are teaching Jedi here–”

“But you are also _raising children._ ” Kethra’s tone was sharper, voice lower, and she knew both her frustration and passion on the matter had slipped through, as every master reacted – some leaning back in their chairs, others raising brows, some frowning deeper. Mace looked visibly annoyed, which didn’t bode well.

“Knight Adaar,” he said stiffly. “You should be mindful. You are before Master Jedi, many years your seniors and with many trials and experiences behind them.”

Kethra raised her chin, and did not apologize.

“Concerned you are, for the younglings well being,” Yoda spoke again, nodding. “A noble concern. But to trouble, it may lead.”

Ki-Adi Mundi nodded, steepling his fingers. “You have always been good with children, Master Adaar, even when you were one. But you risk putting too much focus on them, and not enough on the Force, on our ways. What we to not provide for the younglings, the Force will.”

“It has been well studied that infants of many races, even within animals, require physical connection and affection to survive and thrive,” Kethra continued nonetheless. “And yet we discourage even the most simple of affection. When children outside the temple lose their families and are shuffled from home to home, from caregiver to caregiver, it leads to trauma, to development of negative habits and views of the world. There are studies–”

“Those circumstances are not the same.” Mace said firmly, and it took everything within the togruta not to snap at him.

“Master Kethra,” Plo intoned gently, keeping Windu from adding anymore that would test Kethra’s patience. She focused on the Kel Dor. “Do you find your upbringing lacking? I recall you were found quite late in life, so it is no wonder your experiences feel so at odds with system we have in place for the youngest among us.”

Kethra felt her face and tips of her montrals begin to burn. “I am grateful for the life given to me, and I am not here to complain about it. I only hope to offer insight that it appears others do not have, and in doing so improve our way of life.”

“Change, we need not,” Yoda decided, making Kethra tense. “Care for our younglings, we do, but encourage attachments and dependencies, we do not.”

“Masters–”

“The matter is closed, Knight Adaar,” Mace said, folding his arms together and leaning back in his chair, nodding towards the door.

Kethra worked her jaw, frustration flaring, and her eyes shot to Master Tiin, but the iktochi had his eyes downcast. Severed bond or no, disappointment still flowed from him into her, and Kethra found herself unable to parse which was her own. She swallowed, looked down, chest tightening. She bowed stiffly, but when she turned to leave Master Yoda spoke up again, “Meditate, you should. Betray you, your feelings do.”

Kethra quite literally bit her tongue but turned back to face them and nodded. “Of course, master.” This time she managed to leave, making sure to keep her head high and posture straight, but as soon as the doors slid shut behind her she scowled, pressed a palm to her forehead, ache in her heart returning.

 _Force_ were they stubborn! Set in their ways, unable to see past their carefully cultivated little world view. Kethra knew her opinions were considered unusual at best, and dangerous at worse, but to have her first attempt at real change to be so thoroughly shunned and turned around on her was frustrating, humiliating. She picked up her pace away from the chamber, heart pounding, and knew she would have to work hard to release these emotions to the Force, lest they fester the way the Jedi always seemed to fear.

.x.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i only sorta know what i'm doing. if you've made it this far, lemme know why?? (in other news, my cosplay of her is coming along well)

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know if you have any questions i may or may not answer/write about in the future <3


End file.
